First Date
by Orin Drake
Summary: A slow night is about to get a lot more interesting. Dante/Original Female Character


"First Date", the demon whore, and the overall concept of "First Date" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2003. Dante Sparda, and his guns Ebony and Ivory, are copyright Capcom. But I _wish_ I could say I owned them.   
Background: I don't know what to say. The story just kind of got away from me. It started as one little part of dialog in my head (_"Does your version of reality just phase in and out at whim?" "You have no idea."_), and went ka-boom. Obviously. So. Well. I don't know if this has anything to do with Descendants of the Mundane, but I wouldn't be surprised if it eventually possibly did. Otherwise... it's just a bit of happy smut I enjoyed. And now I share. Does it make sense? No, of course not. It's art, dammit.   
_**WARNING!!!** This story contains "not quite consensual" sexual activity, light bondage, discipline via belt (I know, I know, I've got an obsession, it seems) and overall just things that are not conducive to the "straight vanilla sex" folks. Although this is Dante/Female Original Character, so it is technically "straight". I'm surprised, myself._   
  
  


First Date   
by Orin Drake 

Another rain drenched night. The humans didn't seem to appreciate it much, but he sure did. Made the streets shine and reflect brightly colored neon--quite another place than Hell. Though not without its similarities. Notably, demons.   
Yessir, he was finding demons in all shapes and sizes lately. There had even been a lawyer. No shitting, a _lawyer_, who was really a demon. It fit, but still. It was just a little bit interesting to have seen one of his shady clients catch a blue, nine-spined tail tear through a pant leg when the demon hunter had entered the scene, Ebony and Ivory blazing. Clients shouldn't be trying to bribe their lawyers late at night, anyway.   
This night, though, had been quiet for a change. At least, it _had_ been. Everything appeared normal and in place... but this sudden, undeniable scent... He stopped his bike nice and slow, trying not to gain too much attention. This scent was... different yet. Very faint, but close at once. How odd. He wondered exactly what kind of--_Why hello there._   
Dante was not the sort to search for dates on street corners. Firstly, those kinds of chicks weren't usually the most attractive. And secondly, beside the obvious disease factor (not that he'd even be infected, but there was a stigma, y'know?), he'd never _needed_ that method. Any bar, any super market, any coffee shop, any time, baby. He just needed to _want_ it and it happened.   
This one initially seemed to have just "happened", herself. She didn't quite have that whore look about her... Just the opposite, she looked like she'd wandered into the wrong part of town. Or would have, had she not had such a comfortable swagger. _Tisk, tisk. You reveal too much._ With no umbrella and a flimsy coat, she practically cried "I'm looking for a John".   
And yet... he looked up, watching the rain fall over him for a moment. Not like he had any paid jobs to work on. And it wasn't like he had anywhere to go. The bars were all closing up, anyway. At least this chick might do for some entertainment. Who knew, maybe she'd even serviced some otherworldly clients lately.   
He grinned, giving his bike a little rev and a jump, then carefully pulled around the building right next to where she was walking. Hey, he didn't want to hit her--just give her that air of "bad boy" chicks liked so much. Apparently it worked, since she diverted her path just enough to approach him.   
"Care for some company?" she asked in a friendly secretary voice.   
"Well, as a matter of fact..." he gave her an obvious up and down glance. Yeah, she was... nice. A "fun time had by all" mixed with a "girl next door". _Great_ combo.   
"It'll be $100 every quarter hour." Instantly the flirtatious kindness rode into a business manner.   
"Ouch." He commented under his breath, not quite expecting _that_ much. "Not sure I can afford you, sweetheart."   
"Aw, come on, handsome." She lured skillfully, switching right back into sweet and flirty. "If I cum first, I'm free."   
His eyebrows took off without him. "Oh really?"   
"That's right." She assured, giving just the perfect, slight motion with her hips to keep him... interested.   
He hated to admit that part to himself, however. She wasn't exactly without her charms, but... still. He couldn't really deny a part of him wanting to find out if that were the case, though. Among other suspicions. "Well, good." He learned in haphazardly. Immediately the grin became even more cocky. "Because I don't have that much money to be spending on hired ladies of the night, anyway."   
She gave him a look that a heartless corporate CEO would find hard to muster. "That's only _if_ I come first."   
"Psssht." The devil hunter splayed his hands out suavely. "Please. No problem, babe."   
She couldn't help but give him an appreciative smirk. He seemed willing enough to try, alright. "Whatever you say. Do you have a place, darlin'?"   
Now that was a good question. He gave his side mirror a casual glance, thinking the consequences over. In the end, he couldn't risk taking her back to Devil May Cry. It just wasn't a chick place. Besides that, he might not be able to get it on with a bunch of grotesque monster skulls staring at him... oh, who was he kidding. He just didn't want the broad to move any of his stuff around. "Is a motel good for you?"   
"Anything you'd like." She made a great effort not to sound too terribly disgusted. "But you pay for the room."   
"Oh, of course." He winked, gesturing behind him. "Hop on."   


He was no stranger to the "finer" motels in the area, himself. A lot of the time, chicks he picked up just plain didn't want to go back to their places. Could have been a number of things, really--parents, roommates, boyfriends, husbands, lesbian lovers. Whatever. He selected a close establishment with a parking lot that was easy to peel out of (one can never be too careful) and parked in the deep shadows.   
"Nice." She commented with no real emotion. It _wasn't_ "nice" by a long shot, but she _was_ on the clock.   
Dante chuckled, slamming the kick stand down. "It works." Like the true gentleman he was decidedly not, he offered a hand to the lady.   
She accepted, visions of rats and cockroaches making it a little difficult to look at all interested in this experience. But, she'd make do. She'd have to. "And how long do you plan on spending with me, handsome?"   
Already cutting to the quick. "Let's discuss that in the room, shall we?"   
That certainly wasn't _usually_ how she operated. But then, this was a slightly different situation. With a nod, she followed him inside.   
Shaking off what they could of the rain at the entrance, they entered through a revolving door that looked like it had seen not only better days, but better days from a century ago--and not in a good way. The front desk wasn't quite as dirty as the outside of the building had suggested, though. In fact, it wasn't... so bad. The clerk, on the other hand, looked like he'd been drinking turpentine for the past several years. And maybe he had--he was half standing, half laying across the desk, ink covering his hands, no pen in sight. Being familiar enough with the place and the process, Dante only gave a mild wave and walked on to the stairs. The guy owed him for several "exterminations", so he got paid with free use of the facilities.   
She was completely aware of the ease at which he moved within that particular locale. Two floors up, turn to the right, then the left, then right again to one room in particular. Astoundingly enough, she noticed he used a key that was _already in the lock_. It gave her pause to wonder just how many others had tried this before... But that thought was ultimately ludicrous. Just looking at the guy told her he got plenty of activity.   
He gave her an all too pleased grin before turning the handle and stepping aside. When she only stood at the entrance, gazing in, he felt he had to give her a little verbal shove. "Well, go ahead."   
As for just how good of an idea this had been... well, it's not that it looked all that bad. Not all that good, but not a worst case scenario type thing. The sheets on the bed looked clean--but that was the thing. Just sheets. Change that--_sheet_. Singular. One sheet. Just the bottom one. The bed itself was composed of a boxspring and a "fancy" metal headboard; it looked to her more like it belonged in a prison window, what with the rusty bars and what appeared to be large filed shavings taken out in several places. As for the rest of the room... there was no rest of the room. There was a closed door off to the side which no doubt was a bathroom, but there was absolutely no way she was ever going to let her eyes fall _there_.   
Alright, more than a verbal shove was needed, here. Not that he blamed her, but... come on. He placed a palm square in the middle of her back and _pushed_ a bit, just until she lost her balance slightly and stepped forward so he could close the door.   
"S-so..." she tried to keep her composure after the initial jolt. It was even harder as the light switch got flicked on--there was only a minuscule, dull yellow beam of light emanating from the cracked ceiling above the bed. A cracked sealing covered in what appeared to be old glue in a rectangle shape--where a mirror had once been affixed. "Uh, as for a price..."   
"Oh yes." Dante agreed, taking the initiative to seat himself at the foot of the bed. Really, he was just making sure none of the "maids" had stolen any of his stash--but he understood that the more comfortable he looked, the easier this would be to pull off. "Let's agree to an hour. But I wouldn't worry about having to pay you."   
She couldn't help the beginning of an eye roll. Granted it was bad for business, but there just was no preventing it. "Alright, $400. Have the money on you?"   
That much got a little bit of a grumble out of him. Technically, yes. But $500 was literally his life savings. Unfortunately, he only got paid for hunting demons when someone had hired him to do so. Still, the challenge had been offered... he pulled a wad of cash out of his pant leg, counting out $400. He showed it to her, but refused to let her touch it. Not yet.   
Well, that was enough alright. The very idea caused a bit of discomfort, but she simply had to ask, "Any extras?"   
He let a devious expression show through, ever so slightly. "How much for, say... light bondage?"   
She tried to keep the swallow silent, though was quite unsure whether or not she was successful. The professionalism wasn't holding up so well. "Of what kind?"   
He waved the whole idea off rather nonchalantly, hoping she'd bite. "Just your wrists. Rope, headboard. You know the drill. Nothing fancy."   
"That'd be another--"   
"Let me guess." He kept his voice as friendly as he could. "Another hundred bucks?"   
Well, things were looking a bit more cheery than they had been. "You said it, darlin'."   
"Yup. I thought so." He sighed quietly, tossing the whole wad on the aged carpet by the room's door. "You collect only _if_, and only _after_. Okay?"   
"Sure." At least, okay enough. The whole bondage thing, though... well, she wasn't quite sure about that. He seemed to be knowledgeable about it. Almost expecting it. And she had heard things, here and there. Why deny herself the experience? Especially for an extra $100.   
"'Course, you have to strip, first." He grinned.   
Yeah, he should be a relatively easy client. She smiled seductively. "Would you like a show, or..?"   
"Tempting." He admitted. "But, nah. I am on the clock, after all."   
Oh well, It had been worth a try. Carefully, she removed each article of clothing from bottom to top, trying her best not to appear clumsy. She thought she did a relatively decent job, considering. The good thing about a strip tease was the time it allowed to get over obstacles like buttons; just "take it off" pretty much inferred a "now" at the end. Without shame or shyness, she turned back to him for further instructions.   
He nodded approvingly, producing a length of black velvet rope he'd grasped from under the bed as she was busy stripping. "Just cross your wrists, one over the other." Time to admire in a moment.   
And just how smart was this again? She'd have to be professional about it, though. Trying to appear as if she hadn't given it a second thought, she offered her wrists to him. Having them bound, even with soft rope, was not the most pleasant experience. She was starting to get a bad feeling--one she was positive she simply had to push to the back of her mind. Certain things had to be accomplished, first.   
"Go ahead and lay down." He invited casually. "Just make sure your hands are close to the headboard."   
She did as he instructed, finding herself very glad that at least there was one clean sheet on the damn mattress. It squeaked with her every motion like it was alive--or like it had been very well used. Either way, she wasn't sure which was the worse mental image. Of course, laying on her back and staring up at the cracked and glue-spattered ceiling, barely lit in a dull yellow tone, was not much better of an image at all.   
He slowly walked around the bed, one knee balanced on the corner of the mattress as he grasped the loose ends of the velvet rope. He'd made damn sure the knots that secured her wrists were not too tight, but very much unyielding. He did the same for the knots that bound her to the headboard, leaving plenty of slack in between for motion but not enough to afford her a way out. Or much of a defense, frankly.   
There, now. Time to begin. She took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself. She wasn't entirely certain of what was to come, but she had a general idea. And then, after all was said and done and he was weak with post coital bliss...   
His upper body suddenly came into her field of vision. Still fully clothed, he threw his leg over and straddled her without completely touching her just yet. He was testing the waters, first.   
"So..." she made a desperate attempt at small talk, trying hard to settle her nerves.   
"Hush hush, doll." He grinned wickedly, slowly resting a good deal of his weight on her, pinning her securely. "Or, should I say, demon?"   
Her eyes went wide. Idiot! What an idiot she was! In sudden adrenaline laced retrospect, how could he _not_ have seen through her? She simply hadn't been professional enough, not versed enough in human sexual culture...   
"I smelled the taint on you before I ever picked you up." He growled quietly, almost able to see her mind race through her eyes. "So what was your plan?"   
His condescending tone brought her back to the present situation, causing her to arch her body angrily. But he, the demon hunter, was far stronger than she was in her human form. Heavier, too, with a body comprised of sleek, solid muscle. Hers was so small, so slim and so fragile... it was so _annoying_!   
He was already getting quite the wonderful power trip out of this. Hell, more than that--it was kind of fun to watch a demon so sure of herself squirm under him. Felt kinda good, too... Ignoring that impulse for the time being, he grasped her chin tightly enough to leave solid lines, bringing her full and undivided attention onto his words. His voice dropped, his eyes shining with an angry intensity that his usual cocky grin would never have given hint of. "What, was, your, plan?"   
Her own "mortality" suddenly dawned on her. Pain was a different thing from a human perspective--she'd been among them for far too long. Granted it was no more pleasant for a demon in true form, but a human couldn't take nearly as much... "I... I was going t-to kill you." She admitted quietly, feeling ashamed that she should be in such a situation in the first place. How utterly naive of her! And how dare he make her feel ashamed! Afraid!   
He nodded, slowly releasing his grasp--but not climbing off. The challenge had already been made, whether it had been serious at the time or not. And, frankly, all of this struggling and barely bridled hatred was getting... a pleasant reaction. Granted, he could just kill her and get it over with. But really, what was the fun in that? She wasn't exactly dangerous enough to be afraid of. And, maybe after this, she'd "learn her lesson". Or be fun in the process of it. With a sudden upturned corner of his lip, Dante shrugged his coat off and let it slide from the bed.   
Her eyes widened again at what was happening. This couldn't be... it just wasn't possible. Was he serious? Did he still intend to... No. No, wait. She wasn't that weak. She wasn't that naive. This was son of Sparda, here. "You'd never filthy yourself with a demon." She dared harshly.   
Hm. So she had the wit about her to try and talk herself out of this situation. Impressive. But futile. "A demon? No. A beautiful, lusty young lady, however..."   
He really _was_ serious. Somehow the danger seemed a lot more intense than it had seconds before. "Does your version of reality just phase in and out at whim?"   
"You have no idea." He growled huskily, pulling his shirt off.   
A cold panic overcame her again as he unzipped his leather jeans. "What are you _doing_?"   
"Taking you up on your offer." He responded naturally, dismounting her as he would a horse in order to get the rest of his clothes off.   
This could _not_ be happening. "I was trying to _kill_ you, dumbass!"   
"Well, it worked out even better." He rustled in his "goodie box" underneath the foot of the bed, finding several key items--none of which visible to the demon. "But first, I think you need to learn your lesson."   
"L-lesson?" Even before the word was completely spoken, the hunter had darted up and taken firm hold of her hips, lifting and flipping her easily onto her stomach. Before she had opportunity to fight back, he grasped hold of one of her ankles and locked a lightly padded metal cuff around it, drawing it down to the corresponding corner with a good sized chain and a very secure padlock. Yes, this place was still situated just as he'd left it, many times before.   
He moved in blurs when he really wanted to, working swiftly to render her nearly immobile by securing the other ankle to the opposite corner. She struggled helplessly, her human form utterly useless against the bonds holding her in place. She should have taken more time to get used to the human body, to build it up--a desperate panic began to swell at the idea that she really was helpless. "Y-you can't _do_ this, Sparda!"   
"_Dante_." He corrected just as calmly as ever, still at the foot of the bed and well out of her sight. "My name, is _Dante_. Remember it. You'll be screaming it in a minute."   
Panic gave way almost instantly to absolute and total distaste. "One minute? I thought as much."   
The words surprised him as much as they amused him. He let a chuckle escape, admiring her slender body laid out in front of him. For a demon, she was not bad at all. "Hey now. What side are you on, here?"   
What a stupid question. "Always against a man who'd kill me."   
Well, couldn't blame her for that. But she had absolutely no idea what was in store. "There's 'killing with kindness', you know." Not that he'd even bother in _that_ department.   
"Bullshit." She hissed, straining once more against her ties. Some part of her slowly began to grasp the idea that he was, in fact, not going to kill her. At least not right away. But a demon, of all creatures, knew there were worse things than death...   
He grinned widely, loudly smacking an old leather belt into his open palm. "Oh, a dirty mouth. I wonder if it can be put to better use."   
Fear wasn't even registering anymore. She was just, plain, pissed. At herself, at this asshole, at the whole situation. When fear was no longer an issue, frustration came out loud and clear. "You want to make it even filthier, do you?"   
"Ouch." His voice was low and dangerous, but that grin was still bright on his face. "You've been a woman for way too long, by my count."   
The first strike was loud, hard and sudden. She hadn't even realized what he had planned, but her sharp cry was a little too loud even in her own ears. The sting only served to heighten her aggravation. "What the _fu_--" but another, even harder _crack!_ split that unfinished question into another cry.   
Almost tenderly, he ran a warm hand over her back, leaving it centered in the large red X he'd just marked her with. "You really should have known better." He suggested quietly. His tone began a lightly veiled threat, soft but absolutely deadly. "Tell you what, though." Slowly, he lifted his hand and stretched out the seconds by drawing the belt ticklishly across her sensitized flesh, watching a mild tremble in her muscles with satisfaction. "You tell me what I want to know, and this night will end well for both of us."   
She closed her eyes involuntarily. It's not as if he could see her face, anyway, but... She swallowed, thinking about the proposition. She'd clearly underestimated him. A deal may well be the only way to get out of this alive... and as much as she might hate to admit it, she rather liked living among the lowly humans, for all the trouble they were. It was a lot better than Hell. A lot more fun, a lot more interesting. Except for this crap.   
"Well?" he murmured softly, drawing the belt ever so softly across one of the welts.   
She shivered with a surprising feeling--almost a delicate _pleasure_ within the pain. Barely able to breathe, she agreed.   
It was a soft sound, a single noise without words. That's all he needed. "Alright, then. Who do you work for?"   
"What do you--" her question was sliced off by another _crack!_ that somehow managed to outdo the previous two combined. She shrieked, her body trying on its own to curl into itself with the pain, unable due to the bonds that held her limbs apart. She gasped, trying to ignore the radiating heat and agony that rose from her back. "I-I don't work for anyone!"   
"Tell me the truth!" he demanded, the belt being pulled back for another strike with an upswing so quick it was audible even by human ears.   
"I mean it!" she cried, more desperately than she had ever thought possible. "I'm on my own!"   
As the trembling increased, he found himself unable to bring the belt down again--at least for the moment. She seemed to be telling the truth. "On your own?" He kept his voice soft, but far from comforting. "You expect me to believe that?"   
"It's true." She grated quietly, trying not to let her voice break. A demon had pride, after all. "Nobody sent me. I just saw my opportunity to walk the earth and took it."   
Hm. Interesting. She was an "escapee" of sorts. And as such, the other demons would eventually try to come for her. Did she want to show off to them, to keep them away maybe? "Then why were you trying to kill me in the first place?"   
"Oh, please." She dared. Granted she was still trembling, uncertain as to what would happen next, but she was no easy servant. Not even in Hell. "You'd have killed me, no questions asked. Given time."   
"Given time." He repeated, almost under his breath. "Why go to all this whore trouble, then? Instead of just attacking?"   
"I _thought_ it'd be easier this way." She admitted, keeping her voice surprisingly steady. Even she was beginning to see the faults in her plan, and it wasn't so easy to swallow. "To catch you off guard."   
_Almost a good idea._ He never would have admitted out loud. Changing speeds entirely, he climbed onto the mattress and kneeled over her. Not quite straddling her, not quite avoiding touch altogether, he hovered above her body and made certain she knew he was there. Once more drawing the belt slowly across the surface of her welted skin, he continued his interrogation. "And what happens if I let you go?"   
She did all she could to control the shiver through her flesh--as to what exactly it was, she didn't really want to know. It was fear, it was concern, it was frustration, it was hatred... it was a desire she didn't particularly understand. "I... I don't..."   
"I can't have you coming after me again. Ever." He made that point clear with a very gentle smack of the belt across her shoulders.   
She squeaked more in worried anticipation than actual pain. Gathering her wits about her again, she attempted a response. "I... I wouldn't."   
An unseen grin crossed his face again, hearing as close to sincerity in her voice as he thought possible. But, he did have to make certain... He leaned in, pressing his naked body up against her bare back, drawing his lips as close to her ear as physically possible without flesh _actually_ touching flesh. The heat and press of his body made the lashes all the more obvious; even he could feel the heat coming from them against his chest. Lowly, quietly, he inquired, "And how can I believe that?"   
Well. She was at a loss there. She closed her eyes tightly, against the question, against the pain, trying to come up with something, anything...   
"Unless I mark you some other way?" he "suggested" just as sweet as anyone could please. The deviousness of his suggestion would only be understood by a demon; humans could fuck as they pleased and never belong to one another. No one would know, if played right. But a demon could scent another demon. Even centuries later. Even... half demons. Though she was in her human form, and clearly having lived among mortals for so very long, he could tell. She wasn't scented. Perhaps by humans, but not by another demon. And if he were to scent her, to claim her... She may like the humans, but she was still a demon, still understanding and following certain codes. As such, she would technically "belong" to him. While he could have all kinds of fun with that, the bottom line was: she was his servant. If she rose up against him, she'd be a much larger target for other demons--even though she'd have killed the "Legendary Son of the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda", she'd never be trusted by her kin again. But if she played along, well... she could very well be protected. At least until he had no more use for her. Callous, maybe. But smart. As long as he kept his wits about him and watched her. As such, he might be able to get some good information out of her. A demon on your side was a golden touch at your fingertips. Not to mention the plusses of a _hot_ demon chick by your side.   
The trembling came again in a wave. What he was suggesting... If Hell came calling, so to speak, their little deal just might allow her to stay among the humans. She didn't _need_ to kill him if he assured her he'd not kill her. She was only _going_ to kill him so that she'd yet have time on the earth. Well, maybe a bit of fame factor played into it, too, but that wasn't so important. "Do you... mean that?" she whispered. "All it suggests?"   
"It's not love or anything." He was the first to admit. As if to accent that idea, he made a long, slow rub against the length of her body with his own. Hey, he could do with a little release of the pressure, already. All of this hunter/hunted bullshit pretty much called off finding any other partners for the night, anyway.   
Well. True. At the moment, she hardly had a choice in the matter. But she couldn't deny how good it sounded, strategy-wise. That, and... just what _did_ a human feel? Especially a human female... she'd heard things. "O-... okay."   
"Okay." He made the agreement solid. And with that, he abandoned the belt on the floor, rising up from her.   
The sudden absence of heat and pressure exposed her wounds to the air, making her feel even more open to danger. Again she inadvertently tried to curl into herself, her body shaking. She'd never... and this was so... but could she trust... and...   
"Sh, sh." The hunter cooed almost gently, passing only a feather's touch of his fingers across her untouched lower back before kneeling at the foot of the bed. "A deal's a deal. Now just relax and I won't hurt you too badly."   
"That's comforting." While unsteady, her voice still held a sharp sarcasm.   
_Glad to see you're back to normal._ He quipped in his head, releasing one of her ankles from its cuff. Sure he was kind of an idiot. Almost a hopeless romantic, in one sense (romance and love were quite different things, thank you). But he was certain that he'd be able to catch any attack she had to offer. He wasn't planning to untie her completely, anyway. Hell, he'd paid for the right to tie her up in the first place--not that he planned on actually _needing_ to pay up.   
That much taken care of, he climbed back onto the bed. Only this time, he crawled between her still open legs. _Not much for shame, are ya?_ At least she listened. Enough.   
"Shouldn't you... um..?" she asked carefully, tugging at the rope that held her wrists to the headboard.   
Dante chuckled appreciatively, carefully scooping the fronts of her hips up, getting her into a low kneeling position in front of him. "Uh-uh. I have to be able to trust you first. Besides, it'll still be fun. Maybe even more fun than you think."   
That time, her gulp was definitely obvious. She'd fooled around with human men before, but it had never gotten quite to that point yet. Not full nudity, ready for "the actual act". She was a shy demon in that respect. A point proven as she just about leapt off the bed when hands closed softly around her perfectly shapely breasts.   
"Hey, easy there!" he joked with way too much amusement. "Relax."   
"Easy for you to say, Sparda." She growled, trying to take his advice at face value. He hadn't _hurt_ her. Just surprised her.   
"_Dante_." He corrected again--though with no real serious intention that time around. He simply enjoyed pissing her off a little bit. It was kind of fun. Got her heart racing. Also got her nipples perky, apparently.   
She jerked backward into him as an alien sensation spread over her. She hadn't even realized breasts were sensitive to erotic touch. It was just so sudden--not a pinch intended to hurt, but one that brought a most intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain to the surface...   
He let himself groan softly at the sensation of her soft skin rubbing against him. In fact, _she_ seemed to like the sensation so much herself that she did it again. Not that he was going to stop her. "As for that mouth of yours..." one of his hands left her chest, gliding smoothly up the flesh and over her neck, resting against her lips.   
Instinctually, she opened her mouth--surprised at herself for having done so. There was just... something about running her tongue over the invading finger. It was strange but somehow so wanted... so not enough...   
"I'll have to try that mouth for other purposes sometime." He suggested wickedly. It was clear that she might well be good at other things. For now, though... Carefully, he removed the finger, drawing his palm firmly back over the soft flesh of her throat, her chest, her taunt abdomen, to--   
She gasped, emitting a quick, high-pitched sound of surprise. Now _that_ she _certainly_ hadn't seen coming. She had an idea, of course, but... it was just not something she was totally ready for. And, smooth though the journey was, it still _hurt_.   
He found a bit of a surprise as he delved further. "You've never done this at all, have you?"   
"N-no." She gasped, the feeling inside actually starting to intensify. Pain was very quickly being outweighed with a peculiar type of pleasure. She even found her own hips moving by themselves.   
And Dante couldn't be happier. Carefully, he used two fingers to further the process, letting her do most of the work herself. Double duty; she'd move against his fingers, while at the same time readying his next torture device. Perfect. With each downward stroke, he'd very subtly widen the gap between his two fingers, giving her plenty of opportunity to get ready. And very, very enthusiastic by the feel of things.   
As the sensation all of a sudden came to a halt with the removal of his fingers, she felt for one devastating second that he'd gone back on his word. What came to pass, however, was a lot better than mere fingers. The pain was more noticeable as the pleasure sensation intensified, but he almost seemed to be... taking his time.   
Pulling her hips against his own, he forced her slowly into a sitting position on top of his thighs. He was breathing heavily, trying to smooth out his words as much as possible so as not to appear quite so turned on. Couldn't reveal weaknesses so early, after all. Was it the fact he had complete control of a full demon that was getting to him so quickly? Sure. It was also the fact the demon made a damn hot, very tight, human female. "Okay. We'll just take a moment to rest."   
Under the haze of pleasure, she felt no need to be anything other than her charming self again. "You need rest, do you?" She even dared to turn her head, looking him straight in the eye.   
His teeth shone pearl white as he met her gaze, a brilliantly cocky grin overtaking his features. Without a word, he pulled back about an inch, then _surged_ forward.   
Not at all sorry she'd nearly insulted him, a long moan came from her lips as she threw her head back, rivaling the shriek of the mattress under them. She took a breath to toss out another quip, but the hunter only repeated the gesture, harder and longer than before. Hands clamped firmly on her hips, he began a steady rhythm of such movements, rendering the demon under him completely helpless once more. She felt like a useless puppet in his grasp, somehow his motions serving to change her from human to a form of pure pleasure. Maybe she had never done this before, but he had enough definite expertise to give her a fantastic new experience. If he did say so himself. Which he would have, if asked.   
He wouldn't have admitted to having been surprised, though. He sped up a little then kept his rhythm, squeaking mattress accenting each stroke, using his grasp on her hips and the swinging slack of her still bound wrists to the headboard to make things move that much easier--but he was frankly surprised at how long she held out. Thrust after thrust she'd gasp, pant, curse in languages he either didn't know or couldn't remember, and each time she'd contract internally as if ready to fall over the edge... but she wouldn't. He was beginning to think he'd have to pay her after all when a thought finally made its way back into his brain. Devious smile on his lightly swollen lips, his hands found her breasts again. A couple of tweaks were all it took--she finally threw her body backward once more and made a final, long, far from ladylike noise.   
Being thankful he wouldn't have to pay was almost enough, but the tight constriction made it all the sweeter. As she slumped backward into him, he had only to thrust once more before the glorious, familiar, beautiful and purely human thrill washed over him.   
Several minutes passed. Back and forth between consciousness and unconsciousness. The sound, only of beating hearts and fast breath. The brilliant fog of completion left no room for steadily cramping muscles.   
At last, their breath became almost normal again. Of course, it was not to last. Dante wasn't good at long periods of silence. "You came first. So I don't owe you anything."   
Not that she expected tenderness, but... "You're an asshole, _Sparda_."   
He chuckled breathily, carefully leaning back to pull himself out completely. Not to mention to get his weight off of her. She was still a fragile looking thing, after all. "You're one hell of a smug bitch for a demon whore."   
Gasping from the feel of his complete removal, she managed to raise her bound hands--and a single middle finger. The arm fell limply back, clanging against the metal headboard as she pondered the situation. "Next time, I'm driving."   
"'_Next time_'?"   
Finally, she'd truly surprised him. And it felt good. "You better believe it, Sparda."   
"Hm." He pondered the idea of having a regular sex partner. "I'm not sure I like aggressive women." 


End file.
